Snow……………two to three feet of it as far as the eye can see blankets the region we now live in. Fall inevitably forces residents here to go through their yearly rituals of preparing for months of it’s presence. After having moved here it’s evident that snow is met with a greatly different attitude based on the extent of it’s encroachment upon daily lives.
The other day, we had to exhume two hundred feet of category five Ethernet cable lying beneath it. The top foot or so was light and fluffy; freshly fallen; but the lower layers were solid ice, especially where it had been walked on repeatedly. Foot by foot, we had to shovel away the upper layer then carefully chip away at the ice with a pick ax in order to free the cable.
Nothing’s easy in the snow.
Walking, moving things, driving, it’s all a pain in the ass and we have to deal with it several months each year. We did, however, choose to move here partly because we disliked the constant grey and drizzle of the Puget Sound region surrounding Seattle.
Through out our childhoods, both my husband and I would pray for just an inch or two; please God, just an inch or two so school would be cancelled and everyone and their Aunt could go sledding and make snowmen. Now we just want it to go away.
Snow was a major event back where we lived. Highways would turn into skating rinks, school was cancelled, twenty four hour news coverage would detail every auto accident, every overly slick road in Seattle (very hilly), and reporters would be stationed throughout the region to give up-to-the-minute coverage of snowman-building and sledding activities.
Cul de sacs would become central meeting places or snowball fight war zones, depending. Snow was a happening; an event. It was cause for socializing. It brought people out of their houses to come together – back in western Washington.
Here, snow is simply a fact of life; something you deal with, not celebrate. Four wheel drive is mandatory, especially if you have unmaintained road which our almost half mile driveway is. We’ve had to get out and chop, shovel and dig our way through the last precipitous thirty feet of road after having bogged down in the drifts or having lost traction on the solid under-layer of solid ice.
Chopping wood is a two or three times daily task depending on our needs. It’s plain tiring.
Walking or wading through freshly fallen snow is laborious; even for the wildlife. Once a trail has been blazed, all the creatures take advantage of it.
Don’t leave that ax on the ground or you might not find it till Spring. Last year I lost a coffee pot lid and never found it. Our hatchet disappeared beneath the ice and we couldn’t find it for a good month. Bets were placed on it’s whereabouts among other items that had come up missing.
Here in western Washington snow is regarded as inevitable; something to be dealt with. Celebrations are considered best to be had indoors in crowded kitchens or within the proximity of a baking fireplace. The weather is met with a sense of resolve and a big sigh in knowing you’re going to have to have your driveway plowed again when you had it done two days before and the roofs are going to have to be cleared for the fifth time in a month.
With the advent of winter, it’s time to put the snow tires on and make sure you have a chord or two of wood for your fireplace. People adapt; socially and logistically to their climates. But still; no matter where you live, nothing’s easy in the snow.
I want Spring.